


Housewarming

by Calligrafiti



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5390483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calligrafiti/pseuds/Calligrafiti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Rodney move in together. Part of Lamardeuse's <a href="http://lamardeuse.livejournal.com/519930.html?">domestic ficlet fest</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Housewarming

John didn't have much stuff. Sports equipment aside, ("A skateboard? Seriously?" "What—they're fun!") everything he owned could fit into a duffle-bag with room for TJ. So fitting into his new, expanded, oh-shit-this-means-we're-in-a-relationsh ip-doesn't-it quarters shouldn't have been a problem. And yet.

The worst part was that he couldn't even blame Rodney this time. Sure, Rodney had a metric ton of crap. ("Valuable mementos of my significant achievements.") But it had all fit into Rodney's much smaller bachelor's quarters. ("Say, if those were bachelors quarters, does that make this . . . " "Master quarters. Stop hyperventilating, Sheppard.") 

No, the problem was that word got out. 

At one point, John figured word getting out would have ended in a court marshal and a depressing gig flying overly rich business men from one boring meeting to another. Post-DADT word getting out translated into house warming gifts. Damonatia, or shelter-blending gifts, from the Athosans. "We're looking for an excuse to buy our way back into your good graces after stealing your scientist—again," gifts from some Genii splinter group or other. "Thank you for getting Rodney the hell out of the labs at regular intervals," gifts from the science staff. "We think you're crazy, but that's par for the course for SG senior staff," gifts from his marines. (That gift came in bottles. John liked his marines.) 

John wasn't about to ditch his nifty new case of Jack Daniels. And even though he and Rodney would probably never have a use for 8 beautifully woven nesting baskets, he wasn't about to regift something that Teyla's people had put days of effort into creating, even if the largest was nearly four feet in diameter. The Genii gift was in the labs, being tested for the Pegasus version of anthrax, right next to something that had shown up through 6 or so intermediaries. The something was greyish-green, had, "In honor of your fascinating human mating customs—'Michael' " written on a leatherish tag, and it squished. 

The scientists had offered an office supply box full of assorted goodies—a laser level, a hand-sized sewing machine ("Who sews?" "Maybe they saw your sparkly curtains and jumped to conclusions. By the way, it seems that we need new curtains." "I fished them out of the trash, Rodney. The sparkly curtains stay. Suck it up.") a Kindle, 16 bags of Doritos, an embroidered silk table runner, and—god knows where they found it— wax for his surfboard. ("Sex wax? Yes!" "It's not what you're thinking." "Just how does wax work in a sexual context anyway? Is there some sort of graphite in suspension?" "Surfing's really not a euphemism here, Rodney." ) 

Teyla had given them a wrought iron candelabra and enough beeswax candles to fill the smallest of the Athosian baskets. Ronon had given them a set of Satedan kitchen knives, and a leather honing strap. TJ had given them about a pint of saliva as he worked a new tooth into existence on the strap while the team was busy finding a toddler-safe spot for the knives. Jeannie had sent a batik bedspread that could have covered a tank. Harmony had sent a genuine Larosian . . . something. ("I think it's supposed to be . . . art? Some sort of sculpture." "How did she even know we were moving in together, Rodney?" "Oh, every now and then we've exchanged letters through our trading parties. What? It's good to stay in a queen's good graces." "Even a slightly psychotic adolescent queen?" "Especially the slightly psychotic ones. Anyway, be glad she didn't send any paintings." ) 

After moving their own stuff, tripping over items that neither of them recognized, turning the Athosan baskets upside down and shoving half of the other gifts under them ("Hey, look, John—end tables!" ), turning Jeannie's spread into a wall-hanging and pinning Rodney's wall-o-ego on top of it , John and Rodney collapsed together on their nice, wide bed. 

"I have no idea where my toothbrush is," said Rodney, who made no move to get up and look for it, or anything else.

"We'll find it in the morning," said John.

"My bathroom kit probably got shoved under the fifth largest basket, along with your spare golf balls." 

"Look in the morning, Rodney. It's not like either of us has to get up to go home." 

"That's true." Rodney turned and buried a smile against John's shoulder.


End file.
